Monday, 26 October 2009 - 7:54 pm

The ferret and the foodstore

Today felt productive. Today, I felt like we were finally making progress towards getting the hell out of here.

Jersey nabbed me this morning, murmuring hurriedly into my ear while the dorm swirled sleepily around us, a mass of grumbles and clothes flapping into place. She’s still working in sanitation (I was surprised that she was still being punished, but I think she’s there out of stubbornness now), and she knew of a couple of hiding places that no-one would ever look. Were they safe for food, safe from the rain? She believes so.

I nodded to her and we went our separate ways. The next task was to figure out how to get the food in the first place. The answer to that came along when I went to fetch lunch for the infirmary’s inmates.

The kitchen workers don’t know how many patients we have currently, or who is on duty on any particular day. I ordered enough lunch for everyone there, including Jonah, knowing that he comes to help himself. He flirts with the girls – if I’m not mistaken, one in particular – but the dumpy woman sorting me out didn’t blink. She just piled up the food and water bottles in my box and sent me on my way.

I gave out what I had to, ate half of my own share, and secreted the rest away in a store room. Just the stuff that would keep – packets of chips, bottles of water. The hot stuff would only go rancid if I tried to store it without refrigeration.

What we really need is someone in the kitchens to siphon cans and boxes my way. I must ask where Tia is working these days. Or perhaps quiet Jaye.

 

I almost got caught when I was stashing the food. My hand twitched to the pile of dressings and tape as soon as I heard the door open, and I tried to hide the racing of my heart when I glanced over my shoulder. It was Peter, leaning against the doorframe and watching me.

“You need something?” I asked him.

He smirked in that way that makes my hand want to curl up into a fist. I restrained myself, straightening the stacks of equipment instead.

“Just wondering when I’ll get to see that tattoo again,” he said. It covers my whole back, but it’s always covered by my clothing. I remembered him walking in on Matt and me and flushed red. “Wouldn’t mind seeing it up close.”

“Never gonna happen.”

“Not even so you can keep seeing your little boyfriend?”

My fury curdled in my stomach – could he really take that away from me? It was none of his business. I scrabbled around for any ammunition I could find.

“If you tell them about that, I’ll have to tell them about all the times you’ve tried to pressure me into sleeping with you, outside of the regulated bounds.” It wasn’t much, but it was all I had. I couldn’t prove it, but then, neither could he.

Stalemate. I could see it in his face as the smirk slid off and his mouth settled into a displeased line. Gotcha, I thought.

He flicked me a sharp look as he stomped out of the room. We had reached an impass, but as soon as he gets something on me, he’ll drop me in trouble faster than a ferret down a trouserleg.

 

I’m going to have to be more careful from now on. I moved the food I was hiding, in case Peter came back to check. I need to work out how to get the stash out of there and to Jersey before he finds it.

I’d better go find her now. We have to get this sorted, and soon.

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